


Three tasks

by Eatgreass



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: 1. dont, 2. do a little, 3. do murder, 4. more murder, Gen, but macbeth does kill him so like...., i suppose you could see macbeth/banquo if you squint, its been a while since ive properly read the entire play so bear with me, lady macbeth is not, macbeth is an idiot, watch macbeth go through the four stages of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eatgreass/pseuds/Eatgreass
Summary: Macbeth is going to be the king.
Relationships: Macbeth/Lady Macbeth, banquo (Macbeth) & Macbeth
Kudos: 2





	Three tasks

Macbeth was going to be king. He was already the Thane of Glamis, already Thane of Cawdor and then, finally he was going to become the king. He was immortal, invincible, and he was above the rest of the world. No man could kill him, and no woman either. The only one who could end his life permanently was one not born of a woman, and that was impossible. Even his wife couldn’t tell him what to do now. He was the king, sitting on an ivory throne. The most powerful person in Scotland. Yes, Macbeth was the king.

Of course, this was a fantasy. He would never truly be free of the demands of Lady Macbeth, and there were still three things he had to do before he was the true king of Scotland, undisputed by anybody else. He could do it. He knew he could complete three tasks. Three simple tasks. The voice of his wife nagged in his mind, asking if he was man enough, if he had courage, if he was wolf rather than sheep. If you asked the Thane Macbeth if he was willing to do what it took to become the King of Scotland, he would say “Yes” without an ounce of hesitation. Yes, He was willing and able to kill, and he would prove it, to himself and the world.

But despite his newfound bloodthirst, Macbeth wasn’t a murderer at first. Honestly, if you asked anybody who knew him before he got caught up with the witches, destiny, and the kingdom, they would say that he was a dopey man who landed himself in a position of power, and followed others to find greatness. Lady Macbeth, she was the snake. A woman cannot become king, and a woman cannot have power over a nation, for that is indecent. But a woman can be married to a man with unlimited power, and that was exactly what Lady Macbeth intended to be. Married to a king. 

Lady Macbeth controlled a very important chess piece, and she was determined to control one even more powerful. She sat with an air of royal superiority, knowing that she was the one in the room with power. And those around her knew it, despite her small smile and gracious well spokenness, because there was ice in her eyes. She knew exactly what leverage she held, and she was determined to be the most powerful woman in all of Scotland. 

Truth be told, Macbeth was quite happy to let her attend to his political affairs. She understood the workings of the kingdom just as well as he did, and perhaps better. There was another thing. He understood she loved ruling, and he loved her. 

She was not capable of love. Loving him, at least. 

And so he set off to do the tasks that she had given him, that guaranteed that he, and nobody but him, would be the king of Scotland for years to come. He wanted this. He wanted the power, and if nothing else, he desperately wanted his wife to look at him with pride. 

**\---**

His wife, cold and shrewd and heartless, but the smartest person he knew. Perhaps he didn’t love her. She was a hard person to love, but she was an easy person to admire. She had told him that if he was to become king, he had to kill Duncan.

He had vowed that he was willing to do what it took to become the king of Scotland, but if it wasn’t for his wife, he might have backed down before he had the chance to get his hands dirty. She shoved him into the murder, and if he wasn’t so relieved somebody was there to force him to complete the damned task, he would have been angry at her. All he had to do was the dirty part, and she was there to frame the guards with bloody daggers at their sides. 

And so he did. He murdered a friend in cold blood, and watched as Duncan choked on his own blood, even as his eyes spoke, clear as day, “How could you do this to me?” But it was done. Macbeth was to be king. 

He pushed down the bile and allowed himself to revel in the feelings of success. He had killed the king. He was  _ going _ to be the next king. That was one simple task down, and only two more murders before he was in control.

But even as he steeled himself for the next task, he knew that the memory of he king in his dying seconds would haunt Macbeth for the rest of his life.

\---

The second murder he had to commit before he became king was to kill the children of Banquo and his best friend himself. “This may well be the hardest task to complete,” he thought to himself. He was quite off the rails at this point. He was no longer doing his own will, only that of his manipulative wife, and his mind was no longer his own, plagued with memories of the betrayed king everywhere he looked. His lack of will meant that he was able to do whatever it took to give his wife the power she desired. He sent murderers after his best friend, unable to stand having nightmares of his friend for years to come.

But the children. The children were the real problem, because when he became king, they would also be kings. A king is made by murder, or at least that’s what Macbeth though in his newly maddened mind. So he thought, nay, he knew, that to stay king he had to kill the children of his friend. (Maybe that’s where it went wrong. Maybe it was the where he thought he could outsmart destiny. One cannot outsmart the web that ensnares them.)

For some reason he thought it would be easier to kill the children of his friend than to kill his friend himself, and he had to do some part of the slaughter, or it didn’t count. It wasn’t easier, not at all. But everything he did, every murder he committed, made it easier to push down the blood and bile rising in his body, and move on. Hardly ever did he wake to see the dying face of Duncan after he murdered two children in cold blood. That is not to say that the nightmares were gone, for they were ever present, but the more you stab somebody, whether in life or in dreams, the easier it becomes to do again, until no longer see the face of a dying man as you sleep, but see the crown that lies on his head as you stab him in the cold embrace of sleep.

And that was another task completed, the cold blooded murder of his best friends children and wife. 

\---

The funny thing about murder, secrets, and power grabs? The more you try to keep hidden, the more people you need to murder, and the more secrets you are forced to keep. 

So Macbeth, who though he was finally free of leaving more blood on his hands, had one more thing to do. “Only one,” he thought to himself, “I only need to leave the blood of one more person on my hands.” That person was Macduff. A smart man, and the first to suspect him for his power grabs. Macbeth was on a quest to end the life of one more person. Cocky as every, because he could not be killed. He was on his way to the final confrontation. But when he arrived, everything was a mess. 

Macbeth was losing what little of his sanity he had left. His wife was dead, the person he had followed to the throne was  _ dead.  _ He was chained and bound, forced to admit his crimes, and driven mad with lust for power and rage. He had nothing left to live for, save the fight. And fight he was ready to do. 

In the end he died anyway. The lies, the murder, the deception did nothing but damn him to another circle of hell. He lived as he died, power hungry and mad. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer that I love lady macbeth but dang is she Like That.  
> anyway you can find me @eatgreass on tumblr, or on @king-of-a-walnut on my classic lit tumblr!


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